when morning comes
by dezel
Summary: Amelia wakes up with a hangover.


Amelia feels a pounding pain in the back of her head, the winter sun glaring in through the blue sheet she has haphazardly hanging up on the window. She licks her dry lips, trying to moisten them and groans silently as she tries to force herself to get up and manages to hoist herself up using her arms and the world seems to just spin. With a semi loud whine, she collapses back down into her pillow and inwardly groans.

Maybe she shouldn't have drank so much last night, and she remembers that Arthur or maybe it was her sister who tried to stop her. Stupidly, she ignored them and after that, she's not so sure what had happened. A drinking contest against Anya, for sure, with others encouraging from the side or trying to stop the both of them.

Amelia becomes aware of the clatter of dishes downstairs, which tells her that someone is home. Probably her sister, who doesn't make as many rash decisions as she does. Food does sound good, but her stomach feels too queasy for anything. Sighing, she tries to sit up again but can't bring herself to do it as the light burns into her retinas and instead, rolls over. It slowly begins to dawn on her that she's not alone in her bed, and she reaches up to rub her forehead, trying hard to recall the night before.

Stiffening as an arm tightly wraps around her bare waist, Amelia tries to summon up the courage and strength to get up and look to see who it is, but can't bring herself to do so. Whomever the person is, they're soft and easy to cuddle up against, so Amelia figures it's not too bad, since she, herself, likes to cuddle with anyone.

As time passes in such an agonizing manner, as Amelia finds herself needing to pee and really wanting water, she's somewhere between asleep and awake, but not quite dozing as the stranger continues to slumber next to her. Out in the hall, she can hear footsteps on the hardwood floor, whomever is trying their hardest to be quiet.

A mop of blonde hair pokes in through her door, half framed glasses falling off of her nose. "Good morning, Amelia, I made breakfast if you're hungry." Her sister is almost a spitting image of her, with the differences being hard to tell. Most can only tell them apart because Matilda is much more quieter than Amelia, and her hair is much longer. She looks at the slumbering form next to Amelia. "And Anya, too, when she wakes up."

Wait. Anya? The headache seems to dissipate now, as irritation and confusion take over. _Anya?_ "Uh, okay."

"Also, your party last night got the cops called on us. Officer Adnan is not happy that he had to come by, but he's willing to compromise if you give him a call. You're lucky he's our neighbor, and babysat us while we were children."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll stop by later." Amelia wriggles herself out of Anya's grip, watching her arm fall onto the bed. Her lips are slightly parted. "For now, I'm gonna shower and eat."

Matilda nods, and silently leaves.

She tries her best to be quiet as she collects from fresh clothes, shooting a glance at Anya every so often and watches her carefully. It's not like she cares if she wakes Anya up, but she also doesn't want to deal with Anya at the moment. Her phone, which is situated on her dresser, lights up as a reminder that she has a few unread text messages and a couple of phone calls she needs to answer still.

Slipping out of her bedroom, and down the hall, into the bathroom, Amelia turns on the water and watches as the shower head sprays out water. Waiting a few moments for the water to heat up, Amelia tries to think back to the night before. There had been a drinking contest, or maybe it was a drinking game, and she knows she was past the point of tolerance. Anya was definitely involved, considering her presence in her home. There's a bite mark on her neck, now that Amelia has taken notice to everything else. She was naked in bed, something that's not uncommon for her, but so was Anya.

They had done something, or got close to doing something, she doesn't know. Grumbling to herself, Amelia steps into the shower and begins to slowly clean herself up. Mostly, she just stands underneath the rush of water, debating over all of her life choices. Nobody would be surprised that she went home with another girl, and in fact, she's pretty out about her sexuality. Yet, _Anya_ is quite the surprise. She wasn't even aware that Anya was into girls. Not that it matters to her. At all.

After a shower, Amelia enters her room as she towels off her hair and stares at her sleeping rival. She's now hugging one of Amelia's million stuffed animals and Amelia's dog has curled up at the foot of her bed. Never once in her life had she gotten along with Anya, both of them rivaling in different things. Sports, academics, and the fact that Anya was just downright _weird_. She always intimidated the other students, and never socialized much outside of that, having preferred to be by herself or with her siblings. Her smile holds a million secrets behind it, and there had been a rumor that Anya probably killed someone at some point in her life.

Amelia never believed in it, and never partook in any rumors that went through their small college, but avoided Anya anyways to save her own reputation. In the science department, Anya had quickly challenged Amelia's pride of becoming their professor's favorite and Amelia hated that. Matilda was quick to point out that Amelia never liked to share, and couldn't always be the best at something, and that just infuriated Amelia more. She had found herself feeling betrayed when her sister became friends with the strange girl.

Sure, she finds Anya pretty but that's it. Anya is pretty, and creepy. She lingers too long, stares at people too much and bullies the weaker students. Her younger brother is weird, too. He follows Anya around a lot and intimidates poor Taurys, whom Amelia is convinced will have a nervous break down at one point or another.

The pounding headache is long gone, and she can think a little more clearly now. Amelia debates on waking Anya up, because she looks too peaceful to really disturb. Sure, Anya is weird and maybe even a little creepy, but she can be nice and maybe even a little insecure. And her voice is soft, but firm, she speaks with confidence but at times, falters. Her hair is enviously long, and even a lighter shade of blonde than her sisters and _soft_. Everything about Anya, save for a few things, is _soft_. Skin, hair, eyes.

Admittedly, at times, Amelia had often wondered—maybe even wished—that Anya had a preference for girls because she was curious as to what a relationship would be like with her. Maybe even wondered what it would be like to kiss her (which, now that she thinks about, her lips were _soft_ as well). Her face heats up and she covers it, emitting a little groan to herself. Not cool.

The way the sun hits against Anya's body makes her look as though she's some sort of fallen angel, the blankets mostly kicked off and arms tight around the little stuffed rabbit Amelia has had since she was a little girl.

Grumbling to herself again, Amelia retreats from her bedroom and silently heads down the steps, to find a couple of her friends sitting in the kitchen, obviously having just woken up.

"I'm not paying the fines," Grunts Søren when he sees her, hunched over the kitchen table as he eats the waffles that Matilda had been so kind to make. Amelia is pretty sure they're cold by now, but she doesn't care as she grabs some for herself. Sigurd gives her a little nod of acknowledgment. Antonio completely ignores her.

"Good morning to you too," Amelia replies, after she sits down from him. "You're the one who provided the alcohol."

"And Gil, but this is on you." Antonio pipes up. "It was your idea."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Shut up, all three of you."

Without using any of her usual condiments, Amelia eats the cold waffles silently. Sigurd gets up to make himself more coffee as Søren sips at his. Neither of them are very friendly until they've had a lot of coffee, and Amelia had gotten used to that over the years she's known them. Antonio seems to be trying to convince himself to move, but obviously too tired still.

The kitchen is too silent for Amelia's liking, so she stuffs the rest of her food in her mouth and gets up, bringing her plate with her and sets it in the sink. She'll do the dishes later. Searching through her cabinets for a clean glass, she successfully finds a plastic cup and fills it up with water and searches through the medicine cabinet for some pain killers. With those two items, she retreats upstairs, without another word to them. They can help themselves or ask her sister, she doesn't care. Amelia has always been in between about being a good host.

She can be the best, to not caring, depending on the person and how much she likes them. Though, if there's one thing, she'll cook for them because she enjoys cooking a little too much (even if she gets ahead of herself) and make sure they're comfortable while she does her own thing.

Anya is still surprisingly asleep when she returns to her bedroom, and Amelia hesitates on waking her. Now that she knows there are still people over, Amelia isn't sure she wants Anya to wake up and leave just yet. At the same time, she does for no reason. Maybe it's to talk to her.

She sets the cup of water with the two pills on top of the dresser, and decides that she'll go play a good host until her hungover guests leave. First, she leans over Anya to grab the cat had joined the dog and human, considering how Anya is allergic to the cat. The cat makes a little noise of disdain as Amelia does so, and gently tosses the cat to the floor. She lands safely, as usual.

Turning to leave, bony fingers grab at her wrist and Amelia turns around to find light irises staring at her. "It's rude to watch someone sleep," Amelia feels her heart skip a beat as she feels the blush from earlier rise up. Anya gives her arm a little tug, and Amelia allows herself to fall onto the bed. "Why not lay in here, with me, for awhile?"

"It's nearly noon."

"You have not had a problem with that before."

It's true, Amelia can easily sleep all day if she can. Morning is definitely not Amelia's favorite time of day. Anya is staring at her, and hard. Defeated, Amelia crawls underneath the covers and Anya wraps her arm around Amelia's waist.

She can feel her heart pound in her chest, and wonders if Anya can hear it. She feels Anya gently run her fingers through her hair, and closes her eyes. That's something Amelia can enjoy, for sure. "Do you remember anything from last night?"

"Barely. I do not think much happened, anyways." She's probably right. Amelia feels Anya shift next to her, and within moments, finds herself pinned underneath Anya and her long, stringy hair curtaining both of her faces. "I do like you."

There's a long silence stretching between them, and downstairs, Amelia can hear quiet chatter, followed by Søren's strong laughter. For a moment, Anya's fingers dig into her wrists. It was a reminder of last night, a firm grip on her wrists, a choking feeling and a warm mouth on her neck. Amelia can admit to herself that she had enjoyed the rough play, however far they got, but she doesn't want to admit the other side of it all. That lingering feeling for whom Amelia had declared her rival. It gets noisier downstairs as whomever else is there wakes up, and joins the rest of the world.

The rest of the world doesn't exist to either of them right now.

"Y-you're joking, right?"

"I am not. Why would I joke about that?"

"Maybe I'm bein' punk'd or something."

"You are not."

There isn't much thought for her next action, because Amelia isn't sure if last night was affecting today's decisions or these feelings are even genuine, but she doesn't care anymore. After all, last night was something that happened and Amelia always goes with it, and she wants to see what happens now. Anya releases her wrists as Amelia tries to sit up the best she can, and encloses the space between their faces and brushes her lips against Anya's.

As Anya returns the kiss, Amelia finds herself feeling as heavy as she did earlier, her brain unable to make any connections now as fingers move down to her waist and grips as she wraps her arm around Anya's shoulders.

They part after a moment, both of them flushed from both the lack of air and embarrassment. They seem to share a common thought now.

 _Well, fuck._


End file.
